Frenemies(71)

I didn’t have to care about that, either.

I was free.


I found the bathroom, and had just finished mopping up the worst of the mascara issue when the door slapped open and in walked Helen.

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” I said lightly, straightening. “But if you’re here to fight with me, I have to tell you, I think we should institute a time-out on national holidays.”

“You’re just as funny as ever,” Helen said, and came to stand next to me. There was silence as Helen fluffed her hair and straightened her dress. I finished reapplying my lipstick and tossed the tube back into my clutch.

Then we just looked at each other’s reflections in the mirror. We looked like strange inverse images of each other. Helen was dark, in a pale blue dress, her tiny bones appearing almost birdlike. I was much fairer, in a rich green dress, and my skin looked almost like peaches in the forgiving light. The fact that we’d dated the same man, when we had so little in common and shouldn’t have appealed to the same taste, should have been funny. It occurred to me that maybe, someday, it might be.

“I didn’t want to tell you this,” Helen said, ruining the moment, “but I kind of did like the fact that I stole Nate from you. Specifically you, I mean. As like karmic retribution. Is that bad?”

“The fact that you thought there was some karmic retribution there is troubling,” I told her, shaking my head. “Or anyway, it’s not like hearing that makes me want to rush out and make us some friendship bracelets, but then, it’s not like I was planning on doing that anyway.” I turned so I was looking at her instead of her reflection. “But that’s okay, isn’t it? We don’t have to sing ‘Kumbaya’ and hold hands.”

“I hated the Brownies,” Helen confessed. “Didn’t you? Those ugly uniforms, like we were little Jawas. And all the mothers were mean.”

“I liked the Brownies,” I said, frowning as I remembered. “I just couldn’t sit still during the ceremonies, and I didn’t make it very far in the Girl Scouts.”

“Girl Scouts.” Helen shook her head. “I made my mother sell the stupid cookies. She was way better at it.”

She turned back to face the mirror again, so I did the same. We both futzed about with our hair, and then met eyes again through our reflections. I thought that probably meant something—that we could only really look at each other through a looking glass. Literally.

I didn’t know where that thought came from, but I could feel that it was true. It had something to do with the two of us, seemingly so different, standing there side by side. There was no wall between us. But we both wanted to think there was.

“I was up at my mom’s place in Bar Harbor over Christmas,” Helen said. “I drove out past Acadia. Do you remember?”

“Your quarter-life crisis on Cadillac Mountain,” I said, almost smiling. “Of course I remember.”

“I don’t know why you told me the truth about you and Nate before Christmas,” she said then, not looking over at me, her voice oddly stiff. “But I feel like I owe you one. I just thought you should know that if I can repay the favor, I will.”

“I’m glad you and Nate are good,” I said then, because while that wasn’t precisely true, I wasn’t upset about it, either. She could have him.

Helen slid me an oh please look.

“Seriously,” I said. “I don’t think I was ever really that into him, if you want to know the truth. He just fit into the plan. And I thought he was into me.”

“Uh-huh,” Helen said. She smoothed her dress over her narrow hips, and gave me a sideways look. “And he was never that into you. But I’m glad we’re friends again now, and can talk about it.” She smiled for a moment. “Anyway,” she said. “I think I’m going to go dance—it’s almost midnight.”

She wiggled her fingers at me, grabbed her clutch, and left—the idea that we were friends again now hanging behind her like perfume.

In her world, maybe we really were friends. Despite all the mess of the past weeks. Or as if the past weeks didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if she had any basis of comparison.

But I knew we could never be friends, not really. Not according to my definition of the term. She’d stolen my boyfriend, and that wasn’t something you got over. I might forgive it. Maybe. But I’d never forget it. She was never going to be like family to me. She would never be necessary to me.

The thing was, it wasn’t as if I’d been a particularly good friend to her, either. She had been right—I didn’t call her often, and though in the past I’d defended her to Georgia and Amy Lee, it had always been a sort of half-assed defense. All, I know she’s annoying but I find her kind of amusing. Of course Helen had picked up on that. She was many things, but she wasn’t stupid.

It would have seemed laughably impossible even a week ago, but tonight was New Year’s and everything felt different. Someday, I thought, there might be another dawn for me and Helen on Cadillac Mountain.

Stranger things had happened.


“Hey,” Nate said.

I smiled my thanks at the bartender and then looked at Nate.

“Happy new year,” I said, and moved to slide past him.

“Listen,” he said, with that smile of his cranked to full gear. “This might sound crazy—you know she can be a lunatic—but is there something going on between you and Henry?” He laughed before I could answer. “I told her she was out of her mind, of course. I know how you feel about him.”